


Dogs of the Military

by Marcellebelle



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alchemy, BAMF Alphonse, BAMF Riza Hawkeye, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Parental Maes Hughes, Parental Riza Hawkeye, Parental Roy Mustang, Poor Maes, Pre-Series, Sort of chimerism but really not, general alchemic theorising, he's so confused, like barely noticeable, more like bio-alchemy, tiniest amount of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcellebelle/pseuds/Marcellebelle
Summary: Maes is howling.With laughter, that is. Roy and Ed are also howling, but their clamour is more of the canine variety.Falman is grimacing, not all that fond of dogs to begin with. Breda is grinning reverently, probably adulating the absurd amount of blackmail material he’s getting his hands on, and Havoc is trying, and failing miserably from the looks of his odd jerking movements and, well, the hysterical giggling, to keep his composure. Fuery looks like he’s torn between bursting into tears and laughing himself, and Riza--Riza is holding a smoking pistol.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye & Maes Hughes, Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang
Comments: 8
Kudos: 93





	Dogs of the Military

**Author's Note:**

> I just started writing and, well.... this happened.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Maes is howling.

With laughter, that is. Roy and Ed are also howling, but their clamour is more of the canine variety.

Falman is grimacing, not all that fond of dogs to begin with. Breda is grinning reverently, probably adulating the absurd amount of blackmail material he’s getting his hands on, and Havoc is trying, and failing miserably from the looks of his odd jerking movements and, well, the hysterical _giggling,_ to keep his composure. Fuery looks like he’s torn between bursting into tears and laughing himself, and Riza--

Riza is holding a smoking pistol. There are two bullet holes in the wooden floor of the warehouse, mere inches from the trembling hounds. Maes has seen how sedately Black Hayate comports himself, and the realisation of exactly _why_ that's the case is slowly dawning on him.

Well, far be it from Maes to get between Riza and a misbehaving pooch; or, quite frankly, between Riza and a misbehaving Colonel. It's becoming clearer and clearer that she approaches dog training in quite the same fashion she deals with her lazy superior officer, and that revelation is, _well--_

In all honesty, this is the best day of Maes’ life.

“So uh,” he begins, and tries not to flinch when she turns her smouldering gaze on him. It doesn’t work. “Anyone heard from Al?” He’s only just got here after all, and he’d actually been _expecting_ the kid to be present. So he’s a little worried, though nobody else appears to be freaking out, which is a good sign, because they all care about the Elrics as much as he does-- maybe more, not that he doesn’t love the little scoundrels, but Roy’s team _is_ around the boys an awful lot, and it's difficult to be around those two and _not_ love them to pieces.

He wonders if the kids know they have a total of seven parental figures present in just this room. Al’s probably figured it out. Ed is so oblivious to social nuances that Maes is starting to become mildly concerned for his future happiness. 

“He’s gone after Vernon,” the woman gives him a sharp look-- one that says Al _better_ end up catching the culprit, or else she’s holding _him_ accountable, and, well-- that’s probably fair, because _maybe_ this is slightly his fault. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t share the blame with Roy just a little bit. Actually it’s definitely Roy’s fault-- yup, completely and unequivocally Roy’s fault and Maes is innocent in practically every way, and _\--_ “Vernon took the… bodies with him,” Riza is narrowing her eyes at him as though she can read his mind, and-- oh _crap,_ what if she can? He hadn’t thought this woman could _get_ any scarier. “On a leash.” 

Roy gives her a wounded look, and _damn,_ in this form he’s actually rather good at it. Maes doesn’t understand how Riza can stand there all stony-faced, when he’s doing all he can to keep himself from cooing at his best friend. But she remains impassive, arching an eyebrow at the chocolate sprocker-spaniel. “With all due respect, Sir, there wasn’t much we could do about it. Vernon… _bribed_ them _.”_

Daniel Vernon, an alchemist specialising in bio-alchemy. State Alchemist turned deserter. Orders were given to bring him in alive, if possible. Maes remembers _that_ particular case file well. 

Roy whines, seemingly even more distressed at the prospect of his _still very human_ body consuming dog food than at the rogue alchemist running loose in Central. Of course Mr I-Only-Sleep-on-Silk-Sheets would care about that. Roy is a good friend, and despite his murky history, a good person, but he’s also a snob. Maes admits that readily and he’s sure Riza would agree.

Ed chooses this moment to nudge the Colonel, in what looks like an attempt at _comfort,_ and boy does Maes wish he’d had the forethought to bring his camera with him because that is just _adorable._

Not that he’s going to say anything. Ed might bite him.

Roy is staring warily at Ed, because Ed has already bitten him. Twice, in fact. Though Maes is sure Roy wouldn’t do anything to hurt the little terrier puppy, even if it is currently playing host to the mind and soul of Edward Elric, the smoking holes in the floor are telling him Riza isn’t going to be taking any chances.

“And that’s safe is it?” Maes queries, again to Riza, since none of the others appear capable of human speech at the moment, for various reasons. “Al won’t, ah, suffer the same affliction?”

Ed barks, managing to sound both angry and alarmed at the same time.

“He’s safe,” she assures them both, clear understanding in her dark eyes. “Vernon isn’t a combat alchemist, and, well-- we think Alphonse is… _immune_ to his particular brand of alchemy anyway. He was in the circle with Edward and the Colonel, and nothing happened to him.”

“Hmm,” Maes narrows his eyes. He doesn’t pretend to know the finer details of alchemy but he knows enough to get by, which, in his line of investigative work, tends to amount to a fair bit. He’s never seen anything like _this_ though; two circles, both complex enough that he recognises barely any of the usual components. Ropes are strewn across the floor beside the larger one. Both circles are connected with a thin line of chalk. “And you’re sure the transmutation didn’t pick Ed and Roy randomly out of the three of them?”

She shakes her head. “It was originally just Ed and Al in the circle, I’d assume it would have activated then if that had been enough. Vernon certainly seemed disappointed until we showed up.”

That answers that question, then. He doesn’t exactly feel reassured, but he’ll take what he can get, under the present circumstances. 

Besides, the transmutation should wear off in, what, five minutes? Ed had analysed the sigil painted onto the other victims for them: a weak facsimile of Al’s soul bond, but not strong enough to tether any soul for longer than half an hour at most, which, thinking about it, is also the most probable reason for Al’s so-called _immunity._ Overriding Ed’s sigil would take a significant amount of knowledge that Maes doubts Vernon has at his disposal. So not a true deal with the devil, or the _Truth,_ as Ed had explained to him, quite horrifyingly. Passing through the gate but not asking for anything, just swapping two things already in existence. 

Maes could’ve done without knowing about the gate. Ignorance, as they say, is bliss.

He’s just settling in to wait, feeling adequately useless, when the door bursts open, revealing Al clutching Vernon, and two humans leashed to Al’s left arm. The military blue and gaudy red coats have been torn to pieces and Roy lets out a whine of dismay at the sight. The bodies of his best friend and surrogate son are scratched up, wild eyed and looking suspiciously… toothy. 

Maes doesn’t get too close. 

He doesn’t have to, either, because it's not a second later that the light of retribution slowly begins to dawn in Edward Elric’s golden gaze. 

“Another failure!” Vernon waxes poetic. “My creations, my children, another failure, oh my--”

Three things happen at once:

Vernon slumps, an automail fist clipping the back of his head with more force than Maes has ever seen from the thirteen-year-old. Alphonse’s resultant cry of “brother!” seems to be lacking the usual resignation over the older Elric’s violent ways, his unbroken, childish tone clashing uncomfortably with the enthusiastic response to the man’s sudden unconscious state. 

The tiny terrier pup begins to yap wildly, the confusion too much for its small terrier mind. Riza immediately scoops the little thing into her arms, cradling it close to her chest even as she levels her gun at the crumpled alchemist. 

Fuery makes his decision and begins to sob, loudly and without remorse.

How is it that he’s only been here ten minutes and still feels responsible for this absolute mess of a situation?

The absurdity is beginning to reach levels even Maes is struggling with, and he lives with a toddler. _On purpose._

Still, a minute later and Roy has also returned to his usual self; two more after that and he’s threatening Ed with a court martial. They’re still leashed together, which is totally an accidentally-on-purpose accident waiting to happen. Maes should probably do something about that, but, well, he’s still a little _nervous_ to get close to them. 

“Don’t go rushing into dangerous situations, Fullmetal! I’ve _told you--”_

“Oh, so you’re a _hypocrite_ bastard now, huh? Huh?”

“Brother!”

_“Bastard--_ I’m your _superior--!”_

“Me an’ Al were _kidnapped,_ Bastard. _You_ just jumped straight into the circle! Who _does_ that? _dumbass.”_

Riza turns to him. “This is your fault.”

Maes can’t help but gape at her. “ _My_ fault?”

“You and the Colonel, running around like headless chickens as soon as those boys disappeared. You _knew_ the other victims were fine,” she narrows her eyes. “I’m not a dog person, Lieutenant Colonel. I hope you’ll personally see to it that nothing of this sort happens a second time _._ ”

_Not a dog person._

“But--” Maes blinks. “But what about Black Hayate?”

Riza stares straight ahead, gently petting the puppy in her arms. There’s a moment of something akin to peace, and her voice takes on a dreamlike quality as she murmurs: “He needed to be trained, _Sir._ " She looks him straight in the eye, smiles, and walks purposefully forward to help Al untangle the mess of alchemists at the armoured boy's feet, shooting a few rounds into the warehouse wall for good luck.

Trained.

Huh.

Dogs of the military, indeed.


End file.
